


Six Drabbles of Hobbitsmut for Dana

by orphan_account



Category: Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Sequence, Hobbits, M/M, POV Male Character, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-04
Updated: 2007-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-09 07:17:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/84439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Awesome title, I know. It seemed pointless to post these separately, though.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Six Drabbles of Hobbitsmut for Dana

**Author's Note:**

> Awesome title, I know. It seemed pointless to post these separately, though.

**All Grown **

It had occurred to Frodo, when Merry grabbed him in a bear-hug on his first arrival to the Golden Finch, that his young cousin had grown up.

It occurred to him now that Merry had grown up a long time ago, and that Frodo simply hadn't seen it. It was that look in his eyes; it made Frodo blush without being able to admit to himself why.

Later, it occurred to Frodo that it was probably wrong to open his legs so willingly, even if Merry was all grown, and his tongue a fair degree more talented than was proper.

*

**Reasons**

Because, Pippin couldn't say, didn't even try. Maybe because Sam was so easy to fluster, or because he found it difficult to believe he might be wanted. Because of how delighted he was to find he was wrong.

Because of the small gasp he made, the first time Pippin took the skin of his neck between his teeth. Because he was beautiful, strong arms and soft eyes, flower and earth scent, warm skin.

Because it was a special thrill when Sam finally touched him, fire on his fingertips, down Pippin's back, grasping soft flesh. Pippin's laugh drowned in Sam's mouth.

*

**A Little Bit of Pippin **

Sam had gone through shock, dizziness, confusion, elation, and bliss, and floated in the indescribable aftermath, somewhere on the brink of laughter or madness.

Merry had once called it "getting Pippined".

Now, half-dressed as he was on the back of the toolshed, wrapped in Pippin, he asked, 'Why me?'

'Because,' Pippin said, which is not really replying at all, and kissed him deep instead, fingers teasing their way up his thigh again. Later, Sam made Pippin squeak, and they both laughed, heady and mad, and continued, again, breath caught, released, breathed in again, tasting sweat-salt, bitter white traces, and stars.

*

**A Time and a Place**

He wouldn't.

Of course he would. He was Pippin, wasn't he?

A flush creeped on Merry's face. He tried to think of cold water. Rough bark. Naked Sackville-Bagginses.

No dice. Pippin had already popped the last button, and even before his fingertips found it, Merry's cock was hard and eager. Merry wasn't sure whether to bless or curse the long table-cloth. He stared at the turkey, clutched his fork, and prayed no-one would address him for the next ten minutes. There was a good chance. There were, after all, fifty other people to talk to at the Master's Yule dinner.

*

**Something To Remember**

Frodo was always beautiful, in many ways, but the recent change in his features had been so sudden, it drew Pippin's eye, even now. There were new wrinkles, the scars of Mordor.

But Frodo was beautiful as he closed those haunted eyes, beautiful as the creases cleared, beautiful, and Pippin moved in a desperate rhythm, taking Frodo inside him with each downward push. He wanted all of Frodo, all he could hold, before it was too late. It was more than pleasure, more than need.

Evening light all around them, sunset light, the loveliest of all, before all light fled.

*

**Sunset Strip**

The air that evening was warm milk. Frodo closed his eyes to the sky, to the shadow before it, thrust up, oh, Pippin. Frodo clutched Pippin's moving form, matching each push and stroke. It was heat, it was pain, it was the Ring, no, it was love, it was light, shadow and flesh and sunburst.

It was Pippin.

Later, Frodo saw himself in green eyes, his sweat on Pippin's lips; and his age, reflected in a face no longer a tween's. There was doubt there, sadness. Pippin must have suspected, as Frodo knew, that it would be the last time.


End file.
